


God Save the Queen

by liketolaugh



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Gen, It still centers around the Holy War just pushed forward like fifty years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 16:28:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11062773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketolaugh/pseuds/liketolaugh
Summary: On May 9th, 1941, Lenalee receives a mission to help Nyne find Timothy and an Innocence, lost in London. On May 10th, London is bombed.





	God Save the Queen

**May 6 th, 1941**

* * *

“Don’t be an idiot, they want nothing to do with this.”

 _“Churchill_ thinks the USA will join the war soon, why don’t you?”

“Oh, yes, missions to America, just what I wanted from this war.”

“North America has their own finders, it’s not like _you’d_ have to worry about it.”

The finders behind Lenalee hushed for a brief moment, and she didn’t have to look over her shoulder to guess that they were casting fervent glances at her table. She couldn’t bring herself to care; the finders always talked, and besides, she wasn’t Kanda.

Kanda wasn’t here.

Lenalee blew out a soft, quiet breath and set her fork down, eyes dim. The food was good – of course it was, Jerry had made it – but her heart just wasn’t in it.

She glanced up and around the table, the rest of which was just as quiet as she was. Across from her, Marie’s expression was stony, but one of his hands was under the table; Lenalee knew without checking that Miranda was holding it tight, doing her best to comfort him. She even had on a brave face, giving Krory, who had his Innocence activated, a somewhat flickery smile.

A small, rueful smile made its way across Lenalee’s face. The Order just wasn’t the same without Kanda and Allen around. It didn’t feel like home. (She hoped Allen was okay.)

A sniffle, badly hidden with the clank of a fork, drew Lenalee’s gaze to the child beside her, just a little way away. Timothy had taken Allen’s loss even worse than most; he’d started fighting with Chaoji whenever the man started talking about how Allen’s ‘betrayal’ had been inevitable, and honestly, Lenalee wasn’t too worried about holding him back. That was Nyne’s job.

She nudged Timothy, and he looked up at her, clearly trying not to cry and just as clearly trying to hide it. Lenalee offered him a sympathetic smile and nodded to his half-eaten pile of food.

“You should finish eating,” she told him, making him frown at her. “You really shouldn’t be going hungry, you know?”

Timothy frowned harder and kicked a leg of the table irritably. “You aren’t finishing either,” he argued mutinously, not meeting her eyes.

“Well, I’ll finish if you do,” she bargained, picking her fork back up and waving it slightly. Long experience had told her that not eating didn’t do anyone any good, even if she didn’t always feel up to it.

“I’m not _hungry!”_

He was a parasite type. He was always hungry. Lenalee gave him an unimpressed look, and he huffed and dropped his gaze to his feet, beneath the table.

 _“Allen’s_ probably hungry,” he muttered, after a moment, and Lenalee’s expression softened again.

“You shouldn’t worry,” she said, making sure she sounded more confident than she felt. “Allen used to travel a lot with General Cross, and he told me once that they usually got around by pretending to be refugees. He knows how to get by; he’ll be fine.”

Timothy glanced up at her warily; since he’d been a refugee himself for a while, Lenalee supposed she could understand his skepticism. “You promise?”

Lenalee considered him for a moment, thought back to how she’d felt, surrounded by tension and fear and silence ten years ago, and shook her head.

“No,” she said plainly, “but I trust Allen. You should too.”

Timothy looked only a little reassured by that, still nervous, but he picked up his fork, too, and reluctantly started to gobble down his food again – not quite as fast as Allen, but almost. Lenalee smiled a little, and went back to hers.

It was a while later that Lenalee heard someone approaching and glanced up. Nyne was striding toward them, purposeful in a way that indicated that she wasn’t here to eat.

Nyne, not being particularly close to either Kanda or Allen, hadn’t been as affected as some of the others, but she’d still been noticeably cooler as of late. Lenalee thought it might have something to do with Cross’ death, though she didn’t know how long they’d known each other.

Nyne caught her eye for a moment and gave her a nod, and then looked at Timothy, who’d finished his food, and called, “Timothy, Komui’s called us to his office. We’re going on a mission.”

Timothy perked up a little, looking somewhere between nervous and pleased, and scrambled up. He paused, and then said to Lenalee, “See you later!” and then darted off after Nyne.

Lenalee hid a slight smile, and when she looked back, the table looked a little lighter; Marie was smiling a little as well, and Krory even chuckled.

Lenalee picked up her plate, stood, and said, “I’m going to go train for a bit. Anyone want to join me?”

A beat, and Krory offered his usual, slightly bloodthirsty smile and rose. “I think I will.”

It would be much more intimidating if Lenalee didn’t know he held his activation to keep from breaking down in tears.

* * *

**May 9 th, 1941**

* * *

With practiced ease, Lenalee nudged open the door to Komui’s office and made her way inside, cup of coffee clasped in her hand.

Komui was slumped over his work, with Bridget nowhere to be seen; it seemed that even the former Central secretary was having pity on him, if only for a little while. Komui, in recent days, had been working even harder than usual, and with Central breathing down his neck, it was much more difficult to cover for the exorcists the way he tried to.

Not that there had been much to cover. Everyone was reluctant to misbehave when there were this many CROWs around, and once again, in the privacy of her own mind, Lenalee wished that battle lines had cut the Vatican off from the rest of the Order.

The smell of coffee, of course, roused Komui from his doze, and he pushed himself up and gave Lenalee a weary smile. “You’re an angel, Lenalee!” he crooned, holding out his hands in a ‘gimme’ gesture.

She laughed quietly and passed it over, and he attempted to slurp at it greedily and immediately burnt his tongue.

“You shouldn’t sleep on your work, brother.” The words came automatically, tinged with equal parts fondness and exasperation, and Komui managed a brief grin.

“But it’s so troublesome!” he protested around the rim of his mug. He took another, more cautious sip, sighed happily, and lowered it to look back at her, the concern in his eyes unmistakable. “How are you doing today, Lenalee?”

Lenalee’s smile faded into a faint, self-deprecating quirk of her lips, and she shrugged. Komui knew her too well; there was no point pretending.

Komui grimaced, but shifted his gaze away instead of inquiring further. “General Nyne called me earlier today,” he told her, shuffling through the work on his desk.

Lenalee hummed concernedly. “Is everything alright? She usually doesn’t bother.”

Komui glanced back at her, the light glinting off his glasses in a way that didn’t quite hide his expression. “She and Timothy were separated yesterday, and she hasn’t been able to find him or the Innocence yet. She called to request backup.”

“I’ll go,” Lenalee offered immediately, as Komui had known she would.

He smiled slightly. “They went to London,” he warned. “Bombings have been fewer and lighter recently, but it’s still dangerous.”

“All missions are dangerous, brother,” she demurred, clasping her hands behind her and giving him a wry look. As many akuma as there had been before the war started, there had been exponentially more as of late, and she was acutely aware of it.

It was not quite the right thing to say; he grimaced a little, but went on without comment. He pulled out a folder from the pile and held it out, and she took it and tucked it against her chest, looking at him expectantly.

“This Innocence has actually been rather advantageous to the people around it,” he told her, folding his hands on the desk and leaning forward a little, and without a missed beat he slipped from brother to Chief. “It seems to teleport people at random; that’s likely how General Nyne lost Timothy. It’s most active during bombings and fires, but does act at other times as well. There’s more background information in the mission folder.”

Lenalee nodded. “I’ll look at it on the way there,” she promised. “The London gate comes out in Greenwich, right?”

Komui nodded. “General Nyne went west from there, since the concentration of incidents increases in that direction.”

“Alright,” Lenalee acknowledged, giving him a small, confident smile. “I’m off, then.”

Komui smiled faintly as well. “Stay safe,” he murmured, and she smiled, waved, and left for the Ark Gate.

And if she kept an eye out for Allen while she was in there, well, no one needed to know.

* * *

It had been years since Lenalee had last been to London, long before the beginning of the Blitz. The difference was startling; burned-out buildings and makeshift storefronts lined the streets, and the frequent presence of scaffolding paid tribute to the ongoing battle between destruction and reconstruction. It was, to be blunt, a mess, and she was hyperaware of the rings of her Innocence swaying around her ankles.

But the people, as far as she remembered, were almost the same. While a few more than usual walked around with the dazed faces of the grief-stricken, easy targets for the Earl, the overall tone of the city was still almost upbeat, and activity resumed as normal.

She still got more than a few suspicious looks, of course – many Brits had trouble telling the difference between Chinese and Japanese people – but if anything, this trip had reassured her a little. As long as the city’s cheer held, things would be better than they could have been.

Lenalee wasn’t going to get anywhere just walking around, though. First order of business would be to meet up with Nyne, who, when she’d checked in with Komui, had been at the police station, trying to get the data on the incidents – not an easy feat when only a fraction of the staff knew about them.

“Oh good, it’s you,” was what Nyne said when she saw Lenalee. The younger woman bit her cheek against a smile, and Nyne flashed her a weary smirk, reaching up to her shoulder to check on Lau Jimin. “The police here are useless, don’t know the difference between an akuma attack and a bomb.”

Lenalee thought that was pretty understandable. They were about as destructive.

“Brother told me Timothy was missing?” Lenalee said, tilting the tone of her voice up into a question. Nyne’s smirk turned into a grimace.

“He can look after himself, of course,” she said reluctantly, “at least for a little while. Still, I’d rather have you looking for him while I finish up here.” Lenalee nodded her agreement – these days, it made her uneasy whenever someone went off the grid for even a few hours. Lau Jimin chattered, and Nyne crossed her arms, frowning, and continued, “He disappeared this morning, when the police were taking us in after an akuma attack.”

Ah, yes, that was why Lenalee disliked big cities. Not the crowds, the _cops._

“I’m certain it was the Innocence’s doing,” Nyne added. “It matches the profile of the other incidents.”

 “Where were you?” Lenalee asked, clasping her hands behind her back with a frown. She shifted forward and back, feeling her shoes rub against the asphalt. “Most of the teleportations didn’t go far, so I can start there.”

Nyne shook her head slightly. “Somewhere in Westminster. He’s distinctive enough that anyone who sees him will remember, at least.”

Lenalee smiled a little and bobbed her head in agreement. “I’ll find him,” she promised. “Let me know if you learn anything? I’ll be keeping an eye out for the Innocence too, of course.”

“Of course,” Nyne agreed easily, and with a last nod, she turned and went back into the station, while Lenalee took off down the road.

By the time Lenalee reached Westminster, it was evening, and she was already running through her options in the back of her mind.

On the one hand, Timothy had been training with Nyne for months now, and Nyne, while not as enthralled by the process as, say, Tiedoll, was still a good and efficient teacher; when Lenalee’s master had died, Nyne had made up for a lot of the slack. Further, as a parasite type, Timothy didn’t even have to worry about the virus and could afford a few mistakes.

On the other hand, Timothy was unable to fight without leaving his body painfully vulnerable, and Lenalee couldn’t be sure that he’d find a safe place for the night. She was _worried._

Swift and intent, Lenalee made her way down neighborhoods and stores, stopping every other person to ask if they’d seen a blue-haired child. Most of these inquiries, of course, were met with irritated or skeptical looks, at which point she’d shake her head and move on.

A few of the looks were sympathetic, and a kind word or two was offered before they moved along first.

But no one had seen Timothy. Lenalee’s worry mounted.

Finally, when darkness was falling and people began to draw their blackout curtains, the old man she asked clasped her elbow and gave her a solemn look.

“You should go to sleep for the night, missy,” he said, not unsympathetically. “Pick up your search again tomorrow. You’ll do no one any good stumbling ‘round in the dark.”

Lenalee closed her eyes for a brief moment and reached up, running her hand through her hair.

He was right, she supposed; if Timothy had any sense, he’d have turned in somewhere by now, and soon there wouldn’t be anyone to ask anyway. Besides, it wasn’t as if Timothy was unused to being in strange places – God knew how long he’d spent on the road from Paris.

She opened them again and gave the man a nod.

“I will,” she said at last. “Thank you.”

The man nodded back, let go, and moved on. With a sigh, Lenalee did the same.

As Komui had said, there hadn’t been a bad bombing in London for a while, but all the same she could almost hear him screeching at the thought of her finding a normal place to stay. So, with a wry smile, she went and found the nearest communal shelter, and hoped that Timothy had the good sense to do the same.

Early on in the Blitz, she’d heard that these shelters were crowded, but now they didn’t seem so bad. She picked up some food, found a corner from which she couldn’t be snuck up on, and fell into a light sleep.

She’d find Timothy tomorrow. One day out of sight was more than enough.

* * *

**May 10 th, 1941**

* * *

Half the day into her search, Lenalee found herself in a particularly wrecked area, where ashes still coated the street and even the construction crews hadn’t arrived.

She swept her gaze over the street – mostly abandoned, with a few unmarked storefronts and a few wandering souls – and had to stomp down her frustration. This area wasn’t any good. She’d need to turn back the way she came and go a different way.

“Excuse me, miss?”

Lenalee went tense as quickly as if electricity had shot through her body, but her spin towards the speaker was casual and unconcerned. She shifted her weight forward, to the balls of her feet, and studied the two women in front of her.

One of them was shifty and anxious, maybe ten years Lenalee’s senior with brown hair and green eyes, and the other was perhaps five years older than that, her blue-eyed gaze steady on Lenalee’s and her body held still.

Lenalee cocked her head expectantly. “Yes?”

The older woman smiled. “I’m looking for my son,” she told Lenalee. “Have you seen him?”

“I don’t know what he looks like,” Lenalee answered, keeping her gaze just as unwavering as the woman’s.

The woman behind the speaker was getting shiftier, visibly uncomfortable with something, and Lenalee chanced a glance at her to raise an eyebrow. She just crossed her arms and looked away determinedly, face slightly flushed.

The older woman’s smile widened. “He looks like _dust.”_

Lenalee threw herself backwards, a harsh sting bolting up from her ankles as she activated her Dark Boots, and the first volley of shots missed. The younger woman screamed.

Lenalee refocused to find the younger woman scrambling away from the hulking form of a level one akuma – probably a naturally occurring one rather than one sent to collect the Innocence. In sharp contrast to the mechanical smile that often adorned the faces of their human skins, the mask on the front was gape-mouthed and frozen in its despair.

When she was little, Lenalee had found that mask almost more terrifying than the bullets she had to dodge around. Now it was a familiar sight, and almost comforting when compared to the childlike glee of a level four.

The akuma spun to face her better and leveled its guns, and Lenalee shot up, spun, and drove the heel of her foot through the hollow steel, earning herself the screech of tearing metal.

Its mouth opened and it let out a hollow, wailing cry, and she had to duck back again, twisting around its next volley of bullets while it lagged in the air, a gaping hole in its side. Her eyes narrowed, and she flew in close again and kicked out, and the bridge of her foot ripped the akuma open further.

A moment later, she shut her eyes, and dust coated her skin.

Allen always offered a prayer to the akuma he ended. Lenalee just reached up to wipe the dust away from her face, and then landed with a click against the ground and turned on the remaining human woman, opening her eyes to watch her.

She was pressed against the nearest wall, which was half-wrecked anyway, and her mouth was open with horror, eyes wide with fear. She was even trembling, and when Lenalee’s eyes met hers, she squeaked.

Lenalee took a step forward, examining her mistrustfully, and crossed her arms. It had been a level one; aside from the dust, she didn’t even have a hair out of place.

“That’s one down,” Lenalee said evenly, watching the woman carefully. It was an extremely common trap, so elementary that even level ones did it; one akuma would reveal itself immediately, while the other begged for mercy until the exorcist let their guard down and got close. Lenalee couldn’t remember the last time she’d fallen for it. “Now, I have places to be, so can we get this done?”

The woman’s eyes, if possible, widened even more, and even filled with tears in her terror.

“I’m not!” she insisted, pressing further back against the wall. “I don’t, I mean-” She looked quickly over Lenalee’s shoulder, to where the dusty remains of the akuma still lay. “Please, I don’t even know what that was. I didn’t know Marleen-” She swallowed.

Level ones weren’t this good at faking humanity, and level threes didn’t wear human skins. If she was an akuma, she was a level two.

There was no one around, Lenalee mused. It might not even make the news, in this day and age.

“I swear, I promise, I don’t know what’s going on, please!”

No, she needed to get back to work finding Timothy. Her Dark Boots would activate again with half a thought if she needed them, anyway.

Lenalee relaxed, letting her weight fall back to her heels, and deactivated her boots. Then she reached up and rubbed a little more dust from her face – that was the _last_ thing she wanted near her eyes – and smiled, faintly reassuring.

The woman sighed in relief.

“Sorry,” Lenalee apologized easily, keeping her eyes on the woman. “You never know who to trust in my line of work. What’s your name?”

“Ellen,” the woman answered without hesitation, giving Lenalee a tentative smile. “What… what was that?”

“An akuma,” Lenalee told her, stepping past the fallen bullets and gesturing for Ellen to go on ahead of her. “You shouldn’t worry about it; you’ll probably never see one again.” And even if she did, she wouldn’t really be able to do anything about it.

“O-oh…” Ellen’s voice was quieter this time, almost weak.

“Have you seen a boy with blue hair around?” Lenalee asked, since they were speaking anyway. “He went missing yesterday morning.”

To Lenalee’s surprise, Ellen’s demeanor brightened almost instantly. “Timothy?”

Lenalee blinked, and a relieved smile spread across her face. “With a jewel in his head?”

Ellen laughed, still tinged with hysteria and a little nervous. “Yes! Yes, he’s at my house – I found him wandering yesterday evening. He didn’t seem worried, but I didn’t want to leave him outside, poor dear.”

“Thank you,” Lenalee said with genuine gratitude. “Can you take me to him?”

“Of course!” Ellen assured her, taking off, with Lenalee following from a few feet away. “And it’s no trouble, really. The twins love him, and besides, we had extra room, after…” She trailed off.

Lenalee frowned for a moment, but it clicked quickly. “Ah, was Marleen your friend?” she asked. Ellen nodded, and Lenalee smiled ruefully. “Her son. How long ago?”

“At the last bombing,” Ellen said, voice tinted with misery now. “I thought she was just… in denial.” She glanced back again. “I… My husband writes letters home. He told me once, about an… an urban legend. Huge machines made from grief and rage, that shoot bullets of pestilence, and that almost no one lives to tell about. Was that…?”

“Most likely,” Lenalee confirmed, looking to the front. “People aren’t meant to know about akuma, but they’re dense along battle lines. Things would get out.”

“Aren’t meant to…?” Ellen started, and then cut herself off, looking away. Lenalee ignored her, returning her attention to the front.

Ellen lived in an apartment, only a few blocks from where Lenalee had found her and on the third story up. Ellen continued to lead the way, Lenalee keeping an eye on her back, until they reached it and she knocked on the door.

The door was answered by another woman, with black hair, brown eyes, and dark skin. Her eyebrows rose when she saw Lenalee, and she glanced questioningly at Ellen.

“This is Lenalee,” Ellen told the woman, giving her a wan smile. “She’s been looking for Timothy.”

The woman blinked, and then a relieved smile spread across her face.

“Thank God,” she murmured, and then, to Lenalee, “He said someone would be looking for him, but we weren’t sure whether to believe him.”

Lenalee gave a wry smile and a shallow nod of agreement.

“He’s a lucky one,” she acknowledged. “I’m here on behalf of his guardian, technically – Nyne still had some work to do, but I’ll take him to meet with her afterward.” She smiled again, more sincerely. “Thank you for looking after him. What’s your name?”

“Jean,” she answered, letting go of the door to step back.

None of them even needed to call out; Timothy had apparently been listening, and was up and halfway across the room even before Lenalee had stepped in.

He stopped quickly, eyes comically wide, and blurted out, “Lenalee?”

She had to laugh, giving him a quick wave in greeting.

“You worried us,” she scolded, crossing the rest of the distance toward him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ellen move over to a pair of twins, a boy and a girl around five years old, and start explaining quietly. “General Nyne even called for backup, because she didn’t want to risk looking for you and the Innocence at the same time.”

Timothy crossed his arms and huffed at her. “I’m _fine,”_ he protested, as if the proof wasn’t right in front of her. “This is the middle of London, Lenalee! Not _Paris!”_ To emphasize his point, he blew a raspberry.

Fair. Lenalee reached up to rub the back of her neck, still smiling wryly, and replied, “You know how cities are. It isn’t _human_ threats Nyne was worried about, you know?” Mostly.

Timothy deflated a little. “Yeah, I guess,” he murmured, and then, almost immediately, perked up again. “Oh! And I found the Innocence!”

Lenalee’s eyes widened; that, she hadn’t been expecting. “You did?”

Timothy gave her a big, proud grin and produced it out of his pocket; it glowed softly in his hands as he held it up to her. “Yup! When I disappeared, I appeared right next to it. It was easy!”

“Well done!” Lenalee praised, relieved. Now they just had to go to Nyne and then they could return to the Order. She glanced at the window. Well, they might have to stay the night – Central didn’t like unexpected visitors through the Ark.

Timothy beamed at her, and then Lenalee started as she heard the two twin children darting toward her. A few moments later, one of them was on each side of Timothy, clinging to an arm, and he looked almost comically startled for how much time he spent tugging at Nyne, Emilia, or Allen.

“You can’t go!” the boy protested, scowling up at Timothy accusingly.

“You didn’t say you were gonna go!” the girl added, visibly dismayed.

Timothy opened and closed his mouth, and then a small frown, miles more mature than he usually let onto his face, pulled at his mouth.

“I gotta go home,” he said at last, serious. Then, with a proud grin, “I have a job and everything! Trust me, it’s important.”

It didn’t hold the blind enthusiasm he’d had when he first joined, but he sounded a lot more confident, so Lenalee smiled anyway. A touch on her arm drew her attention to Jean, who gave her a nod.

“Good luck,” was all she said, which meant Ellen had probably told her what little Lenalee had told _her._

“Thanks,” Lenalee said absently, and then, to Timothy, “Let’s go, Timothy. Nyne’s probably worried sick.”

Timothy looked a little reluctant, but he detached himself from the disappointed twins, waved, and followed Lenalee out of the apartment.

Then, unexpectedly, he asked, “They’re a little younger than you were when you joined, right? Miranda told me you were really young, younger than me.”

Lenalee was quiet for a moment, surprised, and then said, “Yes, they were.”

“Huh.”

Nyne was visibly relieved when Lenalee appeared with Timothy in tow, though she quickly schooled her expression into something more disinterested. Timothy, for his part, hugged Nyne quickly and then showed off his prize, and beamed when she gave him the same warm ‘well done’.

Nyne didn’t thank Lenalee, but she did give her a look that meant basically the same thing, and Lenalee smiled warmly in return and asked,

“Are we going to try and head back today?”

Nyne shook her head, straightening up after her quick examination of Timothy. “No. I’ll call ahead and let them know we’ll be heading in tomorrow morning. We can stay here tonight.”

“Above or belowground?” Lenalee asked, following Nyne as the general started walking.

“Above,” Nyne said firmly. “The large shelters have far too many people, and Lau Jimin isn’t allowed in.”

Lau Jimin chattered and moved from one shoulder to the other. Lenalee acknowledged the point.

“There hasn’t been a bombing in ages anyway,” Timothy dismissed, still glowing with quiet pride. “It’s nothing.”

Lenalee hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, but it was one day. There wasn’t anything to worry about anyway.

* * *

In the way of things, of course, Lenalee woke up that night to the sound of a thunderous, bone-rattling boom.

A half-cry of surprise made its way out of her mouth, and before she was even properly awake she was up and out of bed, unsteady on her feet with her Innocence already activated. There was another boom, and then another, each one threatening to burst her eardrums.

She looked around, confused and struggling to make out anything in the dim light. Nyne had had the same startle reaction but already figured out what was going on, and she was crossing the room to Timothy, wide-eyed and awake but still in bed.

“We’re moving to a shelter,” Nyne ordered, all business now. Lau Jimin was curled around her shoulders, hissing and spitting and wild-eyed with Nyne’s agitation. “Come on, up, up.”

Timothy rubbed at one eye sleepily but obediently rolled out of bed. In the darkness, Lenalee could make out the soft glow of the Innocence still in his jacket; he’d insisted on carrying it himself.

“What’s happening?” Timothy mumbled, one hand going out to grab Nyne’s, though he was quickly waking up.

“Air raid,” Lenalee answered for Nyne, opening the door and then following the woman out. She glanced at the sky as they left the building and added, “It looks like a bad one.”

There were… a lot of planes in the sky.

They weren’t the only ones going out onto the street, either; while some opted to stay in their homes or, astonishingly, didn’t wake up at all, most were making their own ways to the available bomb shelters.

Nyne, always prepared, already knew where the nearest shelter was, so Lenalee let her lead the way, instead keeping an eye out for akuma. This sort of chaos was exactly where they thrived. She was a little surprised there weren’t rumors in London to match the ones on the front lines.

She’d forgotten that no akuma had come to try and take the Innocence yet.

Lenalee noticed the incoming akuma first, mouth opening to call a warning, but Nyne still had to duck, pushing Timothy down as well, when a flurry of bullets soared their way.

“Aw. I missed.”

Lenalee spun around, her Innocence still active from her earlier startle, and her stomach turned.

Five akuma. One level four, one level three, and three level twos. And the battles continued to rise in difficulty.

The semi-orderly exodus became only somewhat less orderly, and the crowd scurried to the shelter faster. Good; that’d make things easier. Lenalee glanced at Nyne, who gave her a curt nod, Lau Jimin already scurrying down her arm to leap off onto the ground.

“Go,” she ordered. “I’ll handle the level four. You and Timothy take the rest. Look after his body and don’t forget to watch out for bombs. I know you can get out of range if you stay alert.”

Lenalee gave her a quick nod, eyes now sharp and focused, and when Nyne gestured, Timothy darted over to Lenalee, eyes wide and anxious. Lenalee gave him a swift smile.

“Are you sure?” Timothy blurted out, almost as soon as he was within range. “I mean, normally-”

“Don’t worry,” Lenalee interrupted, softening her smile a little even as she picked him up and swung both of them away from a larger volley of bullets. “I’m no General Nyne, but I’ve been an exorcist longer than you’ve been alive. I can look after your body.”

Timothy bit his lip, but then his expression steeled, and he nodded. A moment later, he dropped, and Lenalee hefted his body over her shoulder, as gently as she could, and then finally gave the akuma an assessing look.

She’d have to handle the level three; Timothy still couldn’t possess those, and no level two could take on a level three. Ideally, she’d take one of the level twos as well, because she didn’t for a moment want to let Timothy become overwhelmed.

A screech made Lenalee hiss, stumbling a little, but within moments it ended and she took off at a run, then jumped and flew into the air.

The level three followed her easily, and slightly below her, one of the akuma underwent a transformation – Timothy’s Innocence. Good.

“Bad luck, girl,” the level three before her rumbled; it had blades for arms, colored a dark, navy blue, and it was grinning at her. “Very bad luck indeed that you met me.”

“I never do have much luck with level threes,” she agreed, not taking her eyes off the akuma. “I’ll bite. Why is it bad luck?”

The grin widened, and in the next moment, Lenalee felt the world turn to syrup around her and swallowed.

“I work with air resistance,” it answered.

Bad luck, indeed. She smiled through gritted teeth, reached for her Innocence in her mind, and cranked up the power. Not like she had on that boat, a year ago now, but she needed a bit more speed to even be just _good enough._

Off to the side, Timothy’s akuma started coughing as the other one gassed it, and then its hands caught fire and blew both of them up. She winced, but he recovered fine, and then the other akuma was flying towards them.

The thick air resistance didn’t seem to extend far; around them, bombs continued to fall, and the sky started to light up orange as incendiaries burst and set fire to the city. Lenalee could feel a few of the shock waves, faintly, from where she hovered.

Then she decided to stop hovering, and moved.

Lenalee didn’t go straight for the akuma; that would be suicidal. Instead, she cut sideways, keeping Timothy on the shoulder away from it, and swooped around to catch it in its side with a kick.

The blow missed as the akuma dodged the slow and laborious kick, and her eyes narrowed, her teeth half-bared in a much less friendly manner. She started to turn, and then caught the level two’s eye and saw nothing, for a moment, but light.

A hard blow sent her crashing into the ground, and she only just twisted to take the worst of the blow, crying out her surprise. In a few long moments, her vision cleared, and the first thing she saw was the level two grinning smugly at her.

Damn it, but this would be difficult.

She took off again, but her movements were molasses. It wasn’t slowed time; it wouldn’t expend so much energy if it was. No, she was pushing against the air with every movement she made, and she could feel it.

Timothy was dancing with his level two, fire-hands against poison gas. He was doing okay. Just fine.

She met her level two’s eyes again and the same flash appeared, making her hiss and close her eyes. This time she didn’t stop, pushing past it and aiming a spinning kick at where she’d last seen the level three.

It connected – not as forceful as she’d wanted, but strong and solid, and the level three yelled its indignation.

“You little _pest!"_  it bellowed.

Inspiration struck.

“Sound shackles,” she whispered, and held tighter onto Timothy’s body.

The fight lasted for a while longer; not ages, and the bombs continued to fall around them, but long enough that at some point Lenalee had lost sight of Nyne. Lenalee kept Sound Shackles on to work past the worst of the air resistance barrier, but she had to keep her attention almost entirely on the fight, heavily dependent on the flashes of sight she got between flash-blinds.

Marie had taught her some tips on fighting blind – they did occasionally have to fight in the dark, after all – but they were all but useless in the air, with the sounds of explosions and cries coming from all sides.

Finally, she got in a lucky hit on the level two, and with a wail, it dissolved. The last flash of blindness dissolved just as Timothy cried out.

“Ellen! Jean!”

Lenalee spared a moment from the level three, and looked.

They were on the block where Timothy had been staying, she realized.

The apartment was on fire.

Jean and the twins were outside, but Ellen was not. The twins were wailing, and Jean was frozen.

Timothy’s second cry cut off in a bout of coughing, and Lenalee’s eyes went straight to him, wide and worried. His distraction had earned him a cloud of poison dust, and he was flailing, trying to get away. It took him a good few moments to regain his equilibrium and set the gas on fire, blowing up the opposing akuma.

But he was faltering, distracted. He was worried about Ellen; of course he was. He’d spent a whole day with her, at least, and Timothy was friendly, if mischievous.

Her determination rose, and she twisted to get one last blow in on the level three, more forceful than anything she’d used so far, propelling it away. Then she flew down to the ground, stopped by Jean and the twins, and dropped Timothy at their feet.

When she straightened, she gave them a fierce glare. “Don’t let him get hurt,” she warned.

And then, out of range of the level three’s influence, she darted to the third floor like a hummingbird, and slammed in through the already-burst window, adding a few shallow scratches to the ones already decorating her arms and legs.

The fire was almost worse in here; the heat was suffocating. She covered her mouth with one elbow and shoved her way forward, pushed through the first door, and came out into the room she’d been in before.

Ellen, huddled in a not-quite-burning corner, shot up to look at her, eyes wide, and then almost immediately collapsed again, coughing.

“Lenalee?” she managed to rasp after a moment, obviously confused.

“Come on,” was all Lenalee said, throat already rough from the smoke. She reached down for Ellen’s arm, and Ellen reached back up, using Lenalee as a support to stand.

Lenalee looked back up, too, and then realized, numbly, that the way she’d come from had been blocked by the spread of fire.

She murmured a curse, and Ellen choked beside her, either on smoke or realizing the same thing. Quickly, Lenalee stripped off her jacket and gave it to Ellen, who gratefully took it and wrapped it around her nose and mouth.

Problem stalled for now, Lenalee looked around again, eyes narrow. The smoke was thick; it was getting hard to see and harder to breathe. But there had to be a way out. Brother was counting on her coming back tomorrow, and Timothy-

“Through the fire,” she murmured to Ellen. They’d get a little burned, but Lenalee had been a little burned before. As long as they were quick-

Ellen nodded shakily, not questioning it, and they started forward.

There was a slam, and the sound of cracking wood, and Ellen cried out, clinging tightly to Lenalee. Lenalee’s head jerked up, thinking _bomb_ first, and then-

The level three was grinning at her again, and the house was beginning to collapse under the strain.

Lenalee tightened her grip on Ellen, and struggled forward.

Before they’d taken three steps, they were suddenly outside, and Lenalee blinked at the orange skyline, eyes still watering and stinging. A moment later, her knees folded, and she was looking at Timothy’s body, and the suddenly brighter glow of the Innocence under his jacket.

Oh. The Innocence.

A faint, pained smile curled Lenalee’s lips, and she surrendered Ellen to Jean.

She took one, two, three moments to breath, and there was a little hand on her shoulder, another on her back, and it had to be the twins, the voices were too high.

“I’m okay,” she said, and then pulled herself up, and pushed off again just in time for the level three to burst back out of the apartment, making it creak ominously, and challenge her again.

She lifted her head, narrowed her eyes, and braced herself.

* * *

The won, of course, and Nyne even found them again, only minutes afterward, with Lau Jimin once again a little, disinterested monkey. Lenalee was only a little worse for the wear, and Timothy was perfectly fine, just tired and worn.

“Don’t run off like that,” Nyne hissed at Timothy as soon as she arrived, the closest to frazzled Lenalee had ever seen her.

Timothy didn’t look remotely abashed, which was almost worse, but instead sat up and checked on the family he’d apparently half-adopted, clearly worried; Allen was a bad (good) influence on him.

“They were in trouble,” he muttered rebelliously, and Nyne’s huff said she agreed but didn’t want to say so.

Another bomb burst, far too close, and Nyne turned her still-sharp gaze on the family, burnt paper fluttering around all of them like so much ash or snow.

“Why are you still here?” she snapped. “This _is_ all of you, isn’t it?”

Jean cleared her throat, still looking shaken and flinching every time a bomb exploded, but not afraid of them.

“Yes,” she promised, and then, “but, we were going to take you with us to the shelter. You don’t know where the nearest is, do you?”

Nyne stared for a moment later, and then sighed, closed her eyes, and shook her head. “No.” A subtle flinch as a bomb exploded. “Very well, then. No point wasting time.”

Jean smiled, just a little. “No, there isn’t.”

It wasn’t far, and to Lenalee’s relief, they even let them in. She understood that the shelter still wouldn’t protect against a direct hit, but if she was honest, being out for so long in the middle of the whistling and explosions and flickering orange fire was beginning to frighten her. From his sigh, Timothy felt the same.

The group of them found a patch of floor to occupy, and Timothy went to play with the twins for a bit, since they were overjoyed to see him again so soon.

“That was…” Jean trailed off, questioning and wary, and Lenalee had been wondering about her calm.

“Akuma,” Nyne confirmed. “They were after the Innocence Timothy had. You shouldn’t have to worry about it again.”

“That’s what Lenalee said,” Ellen murmured, and then shook her head. “But where are my manners?” She looked at Lenalee, eyes soft, and said firmly, “Thank you, Lenalee.”

Lenalee smiled wanly, half-curled and definitely tired now. “It was nothing,” she dismissed, reaching up to run her fingers briefly through her hair. “How long should the raid last? I haven’t been to London since before the Blitz, maybe before the war.”

Ellen’s expression pulled into a grimace. “Morning,” she said with certainty. “It’s usually until morning, especially one this bad. And good luck sleeping tonight.”

Lenalee sighed softly, and Nyne grimaced as well.

“How does everyone cope?” Nyne asked, crisp and intent, serious eyes on Ellen’s. “It must be frightening.”

Ellen actually smiled. “It is. But everyone does well, I think. We have a lot of confidence, you see.”

And she laughed a little, while Nyne raised an eyebrow, somewhat dry.

“Confidence in what?” Lenalee asked, glancing at the door as another bomb whistled and blew.

“That we’ll win,” Ellen explained, ignoring the sounds with what seemed to be practiced ease. “It won’t be easy, and it might take a long time, but it won’t be forever. And we might lose a lot, but we won’t lose everything. People are fighting for that, you know? And I trust in them.”

Lenalee smiled faintly. “Right,” she agreed, and wasn’t thinking about the World War at all.

In the morning, they’d head back to the Order, and Komui would almost be in tears with worry; he’d have heard about this already, surely. Then she’d go to Head Nurse and ask to train, and be denied, and worry about Allen again and try not to miss Kanda.

Now, she tilted her head and prompted, “How’s business around all this, then?”


End file.
